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God Can't Help Me Now
Now that I think about it, we never thought we’d actually find anything. We never thought what we found would change anything about us. We never thought that we’d see somebody just disappear, never to be seen by his family and friends again. I’d never thought I would see so much blood in one place. I wish we just kept driving, I wish we did what our conscience told us to do. Because of that mistake, I’m never going to get out of here; I’m never going to see my family again. God is yet to help me, and from what I’ve seen, he has forgotten about us. We were all bored, driving home from a completed road trip to Florida. There were four of us, all close friends from college. We graduated a week ago, so we decided to celebrate with this trip. Rick was driving. I, Stan, was in the passenger seat, and George and Davis were in the back, drinking mild liquor. Of course, we were all incredibly bored, being in a car for several hours bored. To break the tension, Rick told us about a story his grandfather told him that was supposedly something that happened to him. According to the story, there’s an incredibly large abandoned prison somewhere in Kentucky that was surrounded by a barbed wire fence that was nearly impossible to bypass. Of course, Rick’s Grandpa managed to get past the fence with a few of his friends. Drunk, the group entered the prison armed with nothing but a baseball bat, a two inch pocket knife, and a small revolver. They explored the facility, and everything looked like what you’d expect an abandoned prison to look like. However, when they entered the abnormally large shower room, they noticed… all the shower heads were running. Freezing cold water was rushing out of each, and gaping holes were in the walls. Then, they started to hear a faint crying, like a small child’s. The story ended in an unexpected fashion, with the group running out of the prison, with nothing else happening. We all thought the story he told was complete shit, but he swore that it was true, so we soon gave up on getting him to confess it’s fake. We drove for another twenty miles or so without a single word being exchanged. Out of nowhere, Davis suggested we find this prison, and do some detective work ourselves; after all, we were in Kentucky at this point. Rick was a bit hesitant to say anything, but George was already entertaining the idea. After a while, Rick agreed to go looking for the prison, but I found myself silent during the entire conversation. We searched for hours, all over the place; every road, every dirt road, every exit, everything we could see that was accessible. Rick protested that they start heading home, but George kept insisting they keep going. I don’t know how, but we ended up in an old gas station on the side of a long, empty road. We filled up the car, got some snickers bars from the store, and started to get back in the car. Out of nowhere, Davis asked the old woman who was working the station, if she had ever heard of the abandoned prison. Her face went pale, her hands were clearly shaking, her eyes widened, and she constantly licked her dry lips. “So? Have you ever heard of it?” Davis said, anxious for an answer. “Yes, yes, I know of it. It’s north-east of here, just follow this road, take the first left, and follow that road until you come up to a rusted billboard, then turn left off the road… by foot. After a mile or two, you’ll find the place you’re looking for,” the woman said, still shaking violently. “Thanks,” I said. “Is there anything we should know about it?” “Demonio,” she said, barely looking at us. “Excuse me?” “Demonio, Demon, in your language. No one knows why it stays there, but it is. Stay away from the accursed place, or you may be tormented, till you decide to end it,” she said, with clear fear in her eyes. “What a bunch of shit, let’s go,” George said, impatient. We started driving, following the directions given to us, but I quickly looked back. The woman was staring at us, shaking her head, and then shuffled slowly to go back inside the station’s store. It didn’t take long to follow her directions, and we soon found ourselves at a deserted road. A dirt path branched off, so we decided to lock up the car, and follow the road on foot. “Do you really think she was actually serious about that Demonio garbage?” “Don’t think too much about it. It’s probably just a story told around the state to prevent people from checking the place out.” It took forty minutes to walk the distance, and to our surprise, Rick’s story held up. The prison sat ahead of us; overgrown with weeds, paint chipping off the outside walls, and a rotten smell of… decaying flesh filled our nostrils. Without words, only exchanged glances, we all walked over to the fence that surrounded the prison complex. The fence was at least 50 feet tall, with extremely thick barbed wire lining the top. “How the hell are we going to get through this?” “I think I see a little rip on the other side.” We reached the opposite side of the complex, and climbed through the opening fairly easily. We stumbled around until we found the gigantic steel doors, and entered. We walked a few steps, and found that… the doors were closing. There was a security system hooked up to the doors, and the screen displayed “LOCKDOWN IN PROGRESS”. My eyes wandered from the doors, and soon saw all of the windows were also cloaked in a steel sheet. The prison went completely dark, but we luckily all had decently strong flashlights. The flashlights worked excellent, and nearly lit two walls completely with only two pointing at them. As soon as the doors clanged together, a blood curdling scream filled the entire building, sending shockwaves through the walls. “What the hell was THAT?” “It was nothing! Just the wind.” “The WIND, Rick? How the hell was THAT the wind?” “I don’t know, Damn it! We got to find a way out of here!” “It’s a PRISON, Davis! How the hell are we gonna escape from a place DESIGNED to keep people in?” I finally spoke after hours of silence, “Damn it Rick, you’re not helping! We just need to shut the fuck up, and keep moving.” Everyone was a little startled that I broke my silence in that manner, but everyone agreed. We walked down the corridor closest to us, with extreme caution. The only weapon we had with us was George’s 12 gauge, which he was carrying, his flashlight in his teeth. We walked for a few minutes, until Rick had an idea of searching each cell we came across. It sounded crazy to me, but I quickly changed my mind when we found a decently sharp “shiv” under a bed. Rick carried it in his left hand, holding it up in an offensive position. We kept silent for the entire venture through a few corridors, until a bone chilling moan, followed by what sounded to be something crawling, like a dog walking on hardwood… above our heads. We quickly jerked our heads up, George ready to pull the trigger on his gun, only to see nothing, except for what looked like hand and footprints lining the roof, not too far apart, like it was crawling on all fours with incredible speed. None of us said a word, but I found myself screaming, horribly, loudly screaming. I was looking at something sinister, and I had the feeling like something was going to tear me apart. “Stan! Stan! Shut up, shut the hell up! Quit screaming! It’ll come back!” Rick said, in a panic. I couldn’t. “Stan, relax. It’s going to be fine. Every prison has some kind of an emergency release, right? All we have to do is find it, and we can go home!” I stopped screaming, Davis somehow calmed me down. I quickly got up, brushed myself off, wiped the tears from my face, and moved on, following Rick’s lead. Unexpectedly, we weren’t so silent anymore. We kept going on about how we used to get girls back in our senior year in high school. Everything was alright, but we all still felt the unusual, eerie feeling every single room and hall had. The only thing I could think of was some kind of… thing, ripping me apart with its long claws, and sinking its teeth into my face. I shuddered at the thought. I could also, swear to GOD, see something crouched over in the middle of a hall whenever we crossed an intersection of two, long corridors. “Did you see that?” I said, over and over. “What? Don’t bullshit me, or I will kill you!” “I’m serious! I keep seeing something!” “None of us have, so stop freaking us out!” I did as they asked, but I kept seeing the same damned thing. I couldn’t ignore it, I grabbed George’s gun, and fired several times when I saw it next. I didn’t stop shooting until the chamber was empty, and I then threw the gun to the ground. “What the hell is the matter with you?!” George said. Right after he finished his sentence, he grabbed my collar, and shoved me to the wall. “That was ALL the ammunition I had! We don’t have anything to defend ourselves now!” He let me go, and made a motion like he was going to punch me square in the face… But he didn’t. I opened my eyes, and a long, razor sharp claw pierced through his mouth, nearly poking my nose. We all fell silent, and the weapon was withdrawn from his mouth. George’s corpse fell to the ground, blood pouring from the extremely large wound. Rick and Davis started running in separate directions, and the THING just stared at me, two soulless eyes peering at me, and then ran with a slight limp in the arm that killed George, in the direction of Rick. I ran, straight ahead, faster than I have ever run before, and since. After about a minute, the dark halls were filled with horrible, pain filled screams, of what I presumed belonged to Rick. All I could think of is, “It’s coming after ME now! Then Davis, and then it will eat our remains”. Despite my thoughts, I kept running. Soon, I found myself in a large… shower room. My thoughts were invaded with Rick’s story, and soon after, my impression of a little girl’s giggling. I looked around the room, to find every shower heads running. Just like the story, freezing cold water streamed out of each… except for one. The one in the far left corner was streaming something thicker than water, and it was also black. Despite my better judgment, I put my single index finger under it, and smelled the ooze that was on my finger. It had a copper smell to it. “Blood. It’s blood. But… whose?” Giggling, echoed through the pipes of the showers, funneling out of the shower head, and the black blood stopped gushing. After giggling, I heard whispering coming from it. I leaned closer, only to make out the words, “God can’t help you here.” All of the heads shattered, shards of metal was sent flying around the room; one struck me in the shoulder. Without hesitation, I ripped the sharp metal shard out from my shoulder, only to see…. Black blood, gushing out of my shoulder. Immediately after, that damned MONSTER crawled into the room, this time with a severe limp and stared right at me. It had something sticking out of its hand… Rick’s shiv. It seemed to smile, not a real smile, more like a slight smirk. It opened its mouth, and a finger… rolled off its tongue. It had a ring on its index finger…. Davis was the only one who was married. Despite my doubt of any chances of survival, I sprinted in the other direction, listening to the frantic sounds of running behind me. Next thing I know, I was unconscious. I woke up, inside of a confined room. Solitary confinement. The only door in the room was insanely bulky, solid steel, dozens of locks, and covered in chains. That’s where I am now. I’m writing this down on a few pieces of paper I had in my pocket. They weren’t there before. It wants me to write this. It wants to let YOU know it exists. I know it isn’t in this prison anymore. It escaped, we let it. It’s out there somewhere, and it’s impossible to know where. I would let myself suffer starvation, but there’s something shiny in the middle of the room… the shiv. It wants me to kill myself. I’m not strong enough to deny it. I have to. Please, if writing this means it can help somebody avoid making the same mistakes I’ve made, know this. If you see this thing, RUN. Get your loved ones OUT of your location, OUT of its reach. There are corpses in here, corpses of people still with looks of horror. Causes of death, on all of them, slit wrists. The shiv…. It’s not something a prisoner made. That THING made it. It uses it to torment the last of its victims, by forcing them to kill themselves. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I can’t do this I CAN’T. I have to end it, I can feel that monster looking at me, breathing down my neck. Goodbye, and remember… God can’t help us now. Category:Places Category:Memes Category:Beings